


of monsters and men

by NoteInABottle



Category: Blue Lock (Manga)
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-21
Updated: 2020-07-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:28:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25429918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoteInABottle/pseuds/NoteInABottle
Summary: Bachira's hands are on his hips, hooking his fingers through the bottom of his shirt, pulling.I don't see why you're so scared, he teases.What, are you afraid of me?Isagi grabs him, closes his fingers around a fragile wrist, only no, this Bachira, nothing about him is fragile, even if he has eyelashes as long as a girls, even with his pretty face. Bachira looks up at him, all yellow eyes, all wolf, hungry and wanting.
Relationships: Bachira Meguru/Isagi Yoichi
Comments: 6
Kudos: 52





	of monsters and men

_Isagi_ , Bachira says, _you need to relax. Have fun. How about I let you fuck me? Would that make you feel better, hm?_

 _What are you talking about_ , Isagi says, recoiling, only his eyes drag down the length of Bachira's body, he thinks, it's been a while, only no, this is Bachira, this is his friend, what the hell -

Bachira licks his lips. Something coils, low and warm in Isagi's gut, against his will.

 _No_ , Isagi says. Bachira is moving closer, his eyes half lidded, his lips a sly smile. _No, Bachira, stop -_

_Stop what?_

Bachira's hands are on his hips, hooking his fingers through the bottom of his shirt, pulling. _I don't see why you're so scared_ , he teases. _What, are you afraid of me?_

Isagi grabs him, closes his fingers around a fragile wrist, only no, this is Bachira, nothing about him is fragile, even if he has eyelashes as long as a girls, even with his pretty face. Bachira looks up at him, all yellow eyes, all wolf, hungry and wanting.

 _Come on_ , he's saying. _Come here._

Isagi is moving before he realizes it, pressing forward until their lips are touching. He wants to know how Bachira will react, or maybe there's just something in him too, something that reacts to hunger and wanting.

Bachira tastes warm, softer than Isagi expects, and the first touch sends him reeling. He wants more, wants possession, wants Bachira to only ever look at him.

He's not sure what comes over him, but it feels right, his instincts are urging him forward. His hand slides underneath Bachira's shirt. Bachira whispers his name, half laughing, says _you're not supposed to do it like that, Isagi, here, lemme show you -_

He finds his hand being pulled lower, lower, until his fingers touch the hard length at the front of Bachira's pants.

Isagi tries to jerk away, can't, because Bachira is looking right at him, can see right through him, right down to the core of him, the way it wriggles and squirms, and wants more.

 _Here_ , he says, and slowly lets go. Isagi doesn't move, doesn't dare. He's frozen. He wants to press forward again, wants to devour. There's a slick warmth running through him, making him feel like he's coming off of a match, like he has been running for two hours straight. But then Bachira grabs him and pulls him close, until their bodies are touching, warm and solid, their legs are tangling together -

Isagi finds his hands on Bachira's hair, finds them damp with sweat. He can taste something sweet and intoxicating in the back of his throat, and Bachira is laughing again, guiding their bodies until they are aligned in a way that sends zings of pleasure down Isagi's spine. He's opening his mouth up wide, and Isagi feels his brain melt and then evaporate at the feel of Bachira's tongue sliding across his own.

 _Fuck_ , Isagi says, pulling back, a bit stunned.

 _Too much?_ Bachira teases, and then does it again.

He seems to know what to do, so Isagi lets himself be guided, more or less. He can see it all happening as if he's some outside observer, the way Bachira shoves a hand down the front of his pants right as he distracts Isagi with a kiss. The way he drags his fingers across the hard length of Isagi's cock, and steadies him when Isagi's knees go weak. His eyes are fixed on the side of Isagi's face, drinking in his expressions of shock and surprise and confusion, all while grinning like a madman.

 _You've never even thought about this before, have you?_ His fingers curl, and Isagi is going to kill him after this. He feels like he's about to die.

 _Bachira_ , he gasps. His hands are curled into fists, he's hanging onto Bachira for dear life, and this isn't what he expected. He's not sure if this is what he wants. Bachira watches it all, yellow-eyed and knowing.

 _Typical repressed Japanese schoolboy_ , Bachira teases, his hand working into a rhythm now, one that is overwriting Isagi's breathing pattern, one that is rewiring his brain. _Won't even touch himself, or maybe doesn't even know how?_

 _I know how_ , Isagi growls. Dammit, he can't think. He turns, and Bachira's face is right there, flushed with excitement, eyes wild.

This isn't what he wants, Isagi realizes. He doesn't want to be mocked, or watched, or taken apart or any of those things. He wants to be the one in control. He wants Bachira to be the one kneeling for him. And suddenly he can see it - Bachira, his eyes going soft, sated, his lips soft on submission, eyes only for him.

The image hits him like a kick to the chest, how badly he wants it. Bachira is still staring at him, grinning, mocking, the one in control.

 _Do you now?_ And then Isagi kisses him, to prove it, and because he won't let Bachira look down on him any longer.

Bachira makes a sound, muffled, his balance tipping as Isagi shoves him hard, shoves him into the locker room wall, sets his fingers against Bachira's hips, his thumb pressing against the narrow bones there. Bachira feels like he's burning up, and he doesn't go soft and compliant, not yet.

Isagi digs his fingers in, knows somehow that Bachira likes it, likes the hint of teeth and claws, has grown up with a monster in his head and wants so badly for it to be real. Wants Isagi to be a monster for him, and maybe he knows, has known for a while, how badly Isagi wants to be just that.

 _Enough_ , Isagi says, looking down at Bachira. _You said you'd let me fuck you. Did you really mean that?_

 _Sure_ , Bachira purrs, his head tilting back, the long column of his throat exposed. His mouth opens up easily when Isagi kisses him this time, and he shudders when Isagi's teeth scrape against his lower lip.

 _Then cut the bullshit_ , Isagi says. _Don't tease me._

I'm not teasing, Bachira says, but he is, if he's using that tone of voice, all warm honey and lies.

So Isagi presses him backwards, pins him against the wall with one hand, drags his other down from Bachira's hip to the front of his pants. He can feel the way Bachira almost doubles over at the sensation, the way his muscles shiver and jump.

 _Almost_ , Bachira whispers. His eyes seem to be gathering up every scrap of light in the room. _But Isagi, you have to move._

So Isagi moves.

Later, he pushes Bachira to the floor, their clothes shoved down to their ankles, legs tangled together. Later, Bachira licks a wet stripe up his palm, wraps his hand around Isagi's cock, and Isagi fucks into his tight, wet grip until he falls apart. Later, he watches Bachira do it to himself, watches so that he can learn how to do it later. Bachira sticks his tongue out at him, and even when he comes, he does it mainly for show, his body tensing into an arc, his legs around Isagi's thighs. Isagi doesn't look away, can't look away, and that more than anything seems to make Bachira smile.

Later, Isagi realizes that all the tension is finally gone from his shoulders. He feels loose, relaxed, ready to take on the world.

Bachira watches him, his head pillowed on his arms, sweat drying from his back and his hair, looking thoroughly fucked even though they hadn't actually gotten that far. Isagi reaches out without thinking, cards his fingers through Bachira's hair.

Bachira smiles, closes his eyes, leans into it like a tamed animal would, all trust and no fear at all, just sated contentment.

 _You're crazy_ , Isagi says. _We shouldn't have done that_. Now he's not sure he'll be able to concentrate on the field, not when he knows what this feels like, know what Bachira looks like when he comes, and how similar that expression is to his face when he scores.

 _You worry too much_ , Bachira says. He grins. _Don't you feel more relaxed already?_

 _I do_ , Isagi has to admit. He catches Bachira's sly grin, leans down to kiss him until it's gone.


End file.
